


Smooth

by fhsa_archivist



Category: Smallville
Genre: Adult Content, Alternate Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-08-24
Updated: 2004-08-24
Packaged: 2019-02-05 18:43:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12800085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhsa_archivist/pseuds/fhsa_archivist
Summary: None





	Smooth

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Haven, the archivist: This story was originally archived at [Fandom Haven Story Archive (FHSA)](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Fandom_Haven_Story_Archive), was scheduled to shut down at the end of 2016. To preserve the archive, I began working with the OTW to transfer the stories to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2017. If you are this creator and the work hasn't transferred to your AO3 account, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Fandom Haven Story Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/fhsa/profile).

Crossover: Smallville/Fast and the Furious

Warnings for violence, non-con, bad characterization

 

 

Lex thinks of himself as smooth. There are many shadings and gradients to that word and he thinks that he has captured them all. One day, the sky explodes and you go from being red and all that implies to being smooth. Since that fateful day, he has expended prodigious will to make his inside match his outside and most days when he bobs his head up from the sink to look at his wet reflection in the mirror, he considers that his father's imprecations aside, he's done a creditable job. He's filed down all his rough edges until no one can get a handle on him; he slips through everyone's fingers. He confounds everyone's expectations, including his own.

 

Most days, that is. Then there are days like this one. Smallville grates with the provincial blindness that allows its residents to overlook the latest meteor madness and still somehow whisper behind their hands when he walks into the coffee shop. Business is at that peculiar stage of chaos when things could be looking up but falling down. Lex can talk a good game about what will happen but even he can't control every detail. The not knowing if his plans will be diamonds or cinders makes the back of his head itch. And Clark, whose smile would have banished the dark thoughts to the dark corners, is still recovering from his post-Phelan loss of innocence. The looks he shoots Lex lately still have the round-eyed openness, but Lex fancies there are new shadows there. 

 

All this tightens his jaw, stiffens his neck as he stands quietly in line to get his coffee. By the time he reaches the front of the line, his body is thrumming with tension like a bow drawn back. The girl at the counter quickly learns not to meet his eyes. He's sweating from the sheer force of his own unfocused rage, which is never a positive sign. He slaps a ten-dollar bill down and takes his coffee to go.

 

Smoothly, he slides into the car. Smoothly, he shifts into gear, jabs a finger to the radio and pulls into the street with barely a glance. He is oiled with self-contempt, slicked with a miasma of general loathing for the world. As he pulls out of town in the gray light of dusk, the line of the horizon grows sharp and beckons. He can't find what he needs here. 

 

Metropolis. The Porsche cuts through the evening like a snake through water. 

 

He arrives in the city by 9:00pm, throwing his penthouse skeleton crew into a polite tizzy. He strides through with only a few curt words, spends half an hour showering and fifteen minutes dressing himself in clothes that will rip easily.

 

Lex pauses with his hand on the knob. He knows better than anyone that what he's about to do could be the coup de grâce in a life marked by dubious and seemingly random choices. Self-destructive doesn't even get close to this feeling. Self-destructive sounds far too clean. He has a quick vision of Clark's questioning face, his eyebrows comically high, his eyes clear and expectant. Lex slams his fist, knuckles first into the solid oak of the door and that clears his head. Somewhat. Not completely.

 

It's early yet, so he cruises his old haunts just getting the word out that he might be up to his old tricks again. More behind-the-hand whispering in his wake. Speculation is rampant. He tilts a bottle to his mouth with his usual care and attention and wishes with the resolution that most people give to prayer that someone would just take a swing at him. He holds the promising people's eyes for uncomfortable lengths of time and occasionally sees enough of a gleam to hope. But then he moves closer and their eyes go hooded, they tilt their chins up, holding their necks arched in supplication. And he stalks on thinking, don't offer, damn it, take me!

 

Maybe the problem is that he's at his old haunts. Everyone knows him here, no one is going to come through with just what he needs until he puts cash on the barrelhead and describes his desires in small words that everyone can understand. It has no appeal. He will feel the care they're taking, their punches pulled. No rawness and roughness for him, it will always be just hard enough, not too hard. And he needs his limits expanded now. He needs to be pushed to the edge before he can come back to himself.

 

He needs strangers.

 

Where in this city can he find someone whose eyes won't go all knowing by the time he pulls himself from the car?

 

He slips back into the Porsche and heads south on the sketchy side of the street. He doesn't quite know where he's going but figures he'll know it when he sees it.

 

Now it's late (or early). The dark and shining streets of downtown seem to throb with menace. People are running with no apparent object, faint sirens, he has to slow down to a crawl because the road is pitted with neglect. His favorite song on the album comes on and he rocks his head subtly in time. Hope is returning to him. Hope or some other feeling is coiling in his stomach. He feels loose and ready.

 

Suddenly, it's the warehouse district and there is a sudden locus of activity. One of the anonymous buildings glows and rumbles, eureka. Lex hasn't been to an actual rave since he left Europe. He swings the car around looking for a convenient niche. He catches a glimpse of a semi-vacant lot out of the corner of his eye. He gooses the gas, then stomps on the brake while jerking the wheel, pushing the Porsche into a stylish bootlegger turn. He accelerates to where the lot is cast into shadow by the encroaching walls, pulling up the handbrake and skidding to a stop. That feels good.

 

Lex is two steps from the car before he realizes he has an audience.

 

 

Two men are standing on the edge of the pale yellow glow cast by the streetlight. Standing with the air of grown-ups interrupted by a small child, slightly annoyed but prepared to be amused. They appear to be taking a break from a deep discussion that involves the inside of what appears to be a decidedly pedestrian car. One is dark and hulking and seems to be as smooth as Lex. Big nose, wide lips and his eyes are sunk in sockets so deep that his head looks like a skull. The other man is leaner, rougher edges, golden skin, tousled blond hair, slightly stubbled chin but beautiful for all of that. His blue eyes meet Lex's gray eyes and Lex is thrilled to see not the vaguest hint of recognition. Lex's heart starts to pound as he steps into the light. If he plays this right...

 

"Nice ride," says the dark one and his voice is like balm to Lex's rawest longing. That voice seems to rise out of the darkness itself. It's like whiskey without ice. It's rough enough to file down the sharpest edges of Lex's prickly antagonism.

 

"You look after it, there's twenty bucks in it for you," Lex drawls with his softest, most arrogant voice. He knows the way he pitches the last word up is particularly infuriating. He pauses to draw his eyes up the blonde. Lex has to fight down a grin as the beautiful one stiffens. Lex's patented strip-you-naked look would be offensive to a blind man. Lex imagines someone looking at Clark like that and his lips almost curl into a snarl. Lex leans into a posture that breathes insolence. 

 

One glance at the dark one and Lex lets the grin edge into his eyes. It's beautiful; it's perfect. Light gleams off the dark smooth head as the man tilts his head lazily to the side and Lex sees the glints off of his unexpected wide smile. This man is as thrilled with Lex as Lex is with him. The dark man breathes a joyous rage, every line in his stance stating, "Finally! The opportunity to really kick some ass!" He's laughing softly and the blonde gives him an affectionate look and then darts a sly glance at Lex underneath his lashes. The blonde mutters something and Lex's heightened senses catch it perfectly. 

 

"Ringside." 

 

Everything quivers with vitality now that Lex knows he's about to get splashed all over the asphalt. And he knows now that he's read them right and if he can just hang on this could get really nasty.

 

In one smooth glide, the dark man has closed the distance between them...Lex likes him already for he hasn't bothered to catch his hands in Lex's silk shirt but is simply pushing Lex up the side of an oversized SUV by the convenient handle of his throat. Lex's lungs barely have time to swell before he feels his captor pressed into him bodily, those dark eyes sparking with fury underneath him while that delicious voice snarls, "You're funny."

 

And then Lex is unceremoniously dropped to the ground. His legs buckle and there's a painful grinding in his right elbow but it feels terrific, glowing heat and he's hard already.

 

His antagonist kicks his shoulder lightly with just enough force to flip Lex onto his back and before he can even knock his head on the pavement the big man jerks him up, by his clothes this time, and shoves him carelessly onto the hood of another nondescript vehicle. Lex's shirt gives up the ghost and the tearing sound is loud in his ears. At least there's no hood ornament.

 

Lex can tell that the big man would appreciate some token resistance so he boils up swinging and manages to get in a blow to the solar plexus, the collarbone before he's inexorably blocked. His wrists are caught and held in the most humiliating fashion. In the light of the street lamp, the big man's lips are twisted into a sardonic sneer. Lex is now convinced that his punches have done more damage to his hands than his opponent. Lex pants deeply breathing in the man's confidence and vague amusement.

 

The dark man turns back to his friend who is half-sitting on another car hood watching the two of them with an indifference that feels rather studied. The big man wraps his thick arm around Lex's back in what feels like the start of an embrace. He extends his left arm under Lex's left and then reaches up with his left hand to palm the back of Lex's skull. He frog-marches Lex over to face his friend and starts an interrogation that feels like it will be brief. 

 

"Feel this, Brian," the big man tilts Lex down into the range of the blond man's hands.

 

Brian runs his fingertips along the top of Lex's skull and raises his eyebrows questioningly.

 

The big man turns his question into a snarl, "Are you sick? Looking for someone to take you off the count?"

 

Lex grinds out a "No," in a voice that conveys "and fuck your mother." 

 

The big man seems convinced by Lex's rudeness. He shakes Lex lightly, demonstrating just how easy it would be to slam his head into something hard. "Apologize to my friend here."

 

And Lex can't help but smile and lean into the warmth of that big hand, "Why? What did I do." It's not a question; it's a challenge.

 

The big man pauses in his shaking and Lex has a second to wonder if this is it, he's read this completely wrong and they won't be able to identify his body for days. But then the man on the car is grinning at him, snaking the tips of his fingers down Lex's sweaty chest and across the tightness at his center, teasing fingers. His eyes glitter. Then Brian leans back grinning, sticks his thumb inside his own waistband and drawls lazily, "I think it's like that, D." 

 

"Oh, really?" the dark man half turns Lex to get some leverage. Those thick arms seem to swell around him and the repeated sound of tearing competes with Lex's hurried breathing. He's gasping with lust now and his cock is free. The air is cool where the broad palm is not ghosting over him, sliding down to close over his balls. Lex can't help a slight hitch in his exhaled mantra as D clasps him firmly and that low voice seems to vibrate across the tightened tendons of Lex's neck "Apologize to my friend, now." 

 

Lex sticks his tongue into the corner of his mouth. The blonde man tilts his head and gives Lex the sluttiest look he's ever seen. Lex leans down slowly and rests his head against the top of Brian's thigh, inhales deeply. Brian runs his thumb around the shell of Lex's ear. 

 

Brian and the needs-only-an-initial man appear to be communing something over Lex's head because suddenly he feels himself pulled back gently. Brian slides off the hood and onto his feet. He pops the buttons on his fly and wraps his hand around his cock like they're doing this in some hotel room and there is no such thing as gay bashing. Lex decides quickly that being freaked out about someone watching this is kind of ...silly. 

 

Brian presses the tip of his cock to Lex's mouth, brushing it in light circles over the edges of his lips. He does this exactly six times before stroking his thumb over the scar on Lex's upper lip and thrusting in hard. Unnoticed by Lex, the big man behind him has wrestled Lex's body up onto the hood of another conveniently sized automobile. Lex is lying on his as-yet-uninjured left side and the car gives him the support he needs to tilt his head back even further. He wills Brian to push hard, to be cruel, to forget that Lex is a person who needs to breathe.

 

Brian's hands move over his cheeks, the back of his head and Lex closes his eyes against the sensation...it's too much like a caress. But that's just a prelude to long fingers closing in a web over his skull, thumbs press into his upper lip, pushing his mouth open wider. When Lex opens his eyes in shock, he's filled with two fingers on top of the cock that he's trying to choke down. D pulls his wet fingers free and playfully reaches under Brian's shirt to tweak his nipples. Brian shivers and bows his shoulders in. He pulls free of Lex's mouth and bares his teeth teasingly at the big man by his side. Lex feels the shiver in his own gut as the big man nips at Brian's neck with gleaming white teeth. He must have made some noise because suddenly they both look down at him.

 

In some vague part of his mind, Lex realizes that once he might have found this humiliating. He is spread out over the hood of a car, clothes ripped to shreds, bruised and at the mercy of two mildly sadistic strangers. On the wrong side of town. At three A.M. Another part of him wriggles with joy. Lex arches his back, trying to convey just how willing he is to get right back down to business. 

 

Brian grins at him and walks off, out of Lex's sight line. Lex doesn't have a moment to feel slighted because the big man in front of him is unzipping himself, palming Lex's cheek. He sticks two blunt fingers into Lex's mouth and scissors them apart, pulling Lex's mouth uncomfortably tight before forcing his wide cock into the breech. 

 

If Lex could draw the faintest breath, he would moan with satisfaction. 

 

Brian has returned and he pauses for a moment as if mesmerized by the sight of the two hairless men. Lex obligingly puts on a show, using the edges of the big man's pants to pull him deeper. Dark and light skin melting into one another. When the big man feels eyes upon him, he stops his lazy thrusting. Brian murmurs something that Lex can't catch but D pulls away and Lex is once again bereft.

 

It doesn't last. The big man pulls his cock away but his hands keep moving, sliding down over Lex's body. Just a glimpse of those broad, brown hands stretching over his ribs makes Lex thrust involuntarily. When Lex's head bobs again, it brushes against Brian's hipbone. He looks up and the intensity of the blue eyes is direct as a touch. Brian can't seem to get enough of the feel of Lex's smooth skull. Lex supposes that it's an odd contrast between the kitten-tongue roughness of his lover's shaven scalp.

 

The big man is moving solidly behind him, touching with intent. Lex freezes and wills his breathing to slow, his heart to slow, if everything can just slowwww dowwwn, he might not end the evening in a hospital. He inhales deeply and wills his muscles to stillness. D yanks Lex's right leg up, tilts him onto his back and then looks his fill with glittering eyes. How cruel is that? To look like that without touching?

 

Brian grabs his head and repeats his assault on Lex's mouth. Lex's eyes start to water as Brian rubs the back of Lex's throat with the head of his cock. It's almost enough to distract Lex from the tracework of the thick fingers around him. Almost, but not quite.

 

At the first thrust, Lex gasps and swallows involuntarily. Brian grunts his approval and surges forward. Lex has just a second to grasp that he's being stretched by fingers, the knot of knuckles inside him steals his breath. They are preparing him for this. He has a moment of almost-disappointment, but then, that's silly, really. He should be grateful really that this will be painful but not fatal. The big man knows just what he's doing; Lex feels bright heat behind his eyes while the fingers twist and stroke inside him. 

 

Even lightly greased and stretched, he's unprepared for the final assault. D doesn't thrust; he pulls Lex back onto his cock with infinite patience. Brian snaps Lex's head back further, pushes in to the hilt and rubs his hand over Lex's swollen throat.

 

This is just what he wanted. Their hands trace over him, nails dig in, seeking traction, seeking a handhold. When they can't find one, they create one. Lex's ears are pulled ruthlessly, the bones in his hips bruised, his smooth skin scored. Lex is suspended between them, held up by rough callused hands, suspended between their mutual arousal. He knows they won't let him fall until they're done with him. 

 

He has never felt so perfectly divided from his ego. He's no longer Lex Luthor and all that entails...he's just the warm space, a hollow for hot cock. He tries to open his mouth wider, suck harder, and spread his legs. His tongue is what's making Brian pant and moan. He can feel big D's breath on his back and the occasional sting of his teeth. D grabs Lex's wrist and pulls his arm back, straight back while Brian tightens his grip on Lex's ear and his shoulder. He is taut between them. D draws Lex's hand back to feel his own possession. Lex tightens his lips and cups Brian's balls with his free hand. This move that is designed to humiliate him gives him pleasure so fierce that the brush of the big man's wrist brings him to the breaking point. His cock spurts his release like arterial blood.

 

In the abrupt clarity that is washed up on the tide of surging adrenaline, Lex hears the whirlwind before it is upon them. He goes from aching with fullness to an aching void with searing speed. Lex has not moved but gravity has attacked his erstwhile companions and Lex's eyes blink from one to another before locking on the figure in between. Brian is peeling himself off the distant cinderblock wall and rubbing his head with a dazed expression. D is slowly pushing himself up off the heels of his hands, wincing as he leaves some of his skin on the pavement. And then Lex's eyes can focus on the third figure who has just now slowed from a blur of speed. Clark is a cyclone of pure energy, hemmed in by wanting to do three things at once. When Lex looks up into his eyes, Clark stills suddenly.

 

Clark's eyes are so round and wet they look like they're about to fall from their sockets. 

 

Lex closes his own eyes against the invasion. Like no one else, Clark can see right through him. Lex wonders if he keeps his eyes shut, will Clark just leave? Will Lex be spared having to see the pity and disgust, the disappointment that wants to twist Clark's face? 

 

Lex has closed his eyes but his body is far from inviolable. He feels himself gathered up, pulled into a circle of warmth. The hands that bear him up feather over his flesh soothing his bruises and scratches. Not the spiked heat of anonymous lust but implacable warmth. Warmth and gentle fingers brushing over his hurts, smoothing away his fever-sweat. 

 

Lex is liquid. He rolls into this warmth, burrowing his face into Clark's chest. He keeps his eyes squeezed shut as arms tighten around him, drawing him up out of the ruins of his clothing, out of the ruins of his self-image. His head is tilted back into the crook of Clark's arm. Fingers softly trace the edges of his swollen mouth. He breathes in long heavy pants the fullness of Clark's scent. He's startled when thin saltiness splashes into his open mouth. 

 

When he opens his eyes in wonder, Lex's heart swells seeing the tears unrestrained tracking silver lines over Clark's face. Clark's eyes are full but there is no pity, no disgust, just Lex's reflection. Just Lex. 

 

Lex closes his eyes against his welcome new identity and tilts his mouth up for the kiss he knows is coming.

 

 

Is it over yet? ....

 

 

Having replaced the frayed belt in their Supra, Brian and Dom speed out of town. Dom's hand is locked over the steering wheel with no acknowledgement that the skin of his palm is flayed raw. Brian rubs his hand absently over the back of his neck, probing the knot with his fingertips.

 

"Dude, Metropolis is seriously nuts. Buncha weirdos," Brian settles back into the bucket seat.

 

"That's why we're just passing through," Dom says softly.

 

Brian plays with the laces of his shoes for a while. "That guy was stronger than you," his tone and look deliberately casual.

 

Dom smiles sweetly, "And prettier than you."

 

Brian's chuckles shake his chest and he flicks Dom's nipple with his fingernail. Dom grabs his hand and bites his knuckles while Brian sings the theme from 'Shaft' in a painful off-key falsetto. They speed onward into dawn.

 

End 

 

(yeah I'm nuts, I know. I don't necessarily get behind my characterization here but someone mentioned a gangbang and I had a couple of characters handy)


End file.
